


Scott's Training Session

by seriousshit88



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Frottage, Hand Jobs, Light Bondage, M/M, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-11
Updated: 2014-12-11
Packaged: 2018-03-01 02:47:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2756720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seriousshit88/pseuds/seriousshit88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even alphas have to review the basics. Luckily, this alpha has a pair of very dedicated instructors.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scott's Training Session

It was Derek’s idea. He managed to convince Scott that wearing a blindfold would be a perfect way to test his senses during a “training session.” Scott should have known something was up when Stiles enthusiastically agreed and also suggested binding Scott’s hands for good measure. It seemed like a logical idea if they were testing his senses, and there was no threat of being pelted with lacrosse balls this time, so Scott figured, “Sure, why not? What’s the worst they could do?”

Turns out the answer to that question was “a lot.” Derek placed him in a sturdy chair, and Stiles bound his wrists to the armrests with two lengths of flimsy rope. They all decided to pretend he couldn’t break free at any moment, and Scott sat there feeling somewhat amused. He and Stiles were busy making silly faces at each other when Derek held the blindfold in front of him.

"Ready?" Derek asked.

"Aye, aye, Captain," Scott snorted.

"I can’t hear you!" Stiles replied. He and Stiles laughed way too hard at the dumb joke, and he was momentarily caught off guard when everything suddenly went dark. Derek tied the blindfold securely, but not too tightly. Then Scott felt warm breath caressing his ear and cheek as Derek leaned in. He gave a small gasp of surprise and felt Stiles patting his knee comfortingly, running his thumb in small circles just near his kneepit.

"The objective of this session," Derek said, "is to test your ability to rely on other senses besides sight." Derek gently grabbed a handful of his hair and tilted Scott’s head to the side. He ran his nose along his exposed neck and inhaled deeply. "Like smell." He darted his tongue out and licked a stripe along Scott’s jaw. "Taste." He grazed the shell of Scott’s ear, and Scott shivered a little. "And hearing, which is where we’ll start. How many heartbeats do you hear in this room?"

It was a simple question, one with a very straightforward answer. Scott no longer felt any sort of amusement whatsoever. His brain was slowly going offline and it suddenly occurred to him that this might not be a normal training session. Derek’s tongue in his ear was proof of that. He swallowed.

"Um, two?"

Derek nipped his neck. “Count your own. You always count your own when you’re identifying heartbeats, so you’re never distracted by an extra one. Now, how many?”

"Three," Scott said shakily.

"Good. Where’s Stiles?"

Scott had been so distracted by Derek that he hadn’t even noticed Stiles was no longer in front of him. His heart was still going a mile a minute somewhere nearby, though.

"He’s in the room," Scott said, straining his hearing to pick up any other clues. "I can hear him breathing… and fidgeting on metal." He turned his head slightly, and Derek let go of his hair. "You’re on the staircase, dude."

"Scotty, you’re a natural!" Stiles called from the staircase.

"Yeah, well…"

"What’s wrong?" Derek asked.

"I don’t like losing track of people. What if this were a battle situation and something happened to Stiles?"

"That’s why we’re training. And you still found me, so it’s no big deal."

"Yes, it is a big deal." Scott heard his voice rise slightly in pitch, and Derek must have caught it, too. He stroked Scott’s hair and went back to nuzzling around his jaw. Something warm uncoiled in Scott’s chest, and whatever rising irritation he began to feel slowly dissipated. He leaned into Derek’s ministrations, and Derek rumbled his contentment.

Suddenly, he had a lap full of Stiles. “Big dumb wolves,” he said affectionately. “I don’t even know why I hang out with you. Hey, Scott, how many fingers am I holding up?”

Scott didn’t even have to think about this one. “Two. And it’s not nice to flip double-birds at innocent people. Someone might get hurt.” He lifted his hips to dislodge Stiles, but he held on. “Ugh, Barnacle Boy.”

"You know it. Okay, Derek, it’s my turn."

Derek reluctantly stopped nuzzling and scenting Scott, but he kept his fingers in Scott’s hair, gently massaging his scalp and playing with the strands. Scott was dangerously close to melting into a puddle just from Derek’s touch.

"You did pretty well with hearing, but now let’s see how you do with taste. Tell me what I snacked on before coming here." Scott nodded for Stiles to proceed. Stiles’s lips were light and soft as they grazed his. Stiles swiped his tongue along Scott’s bottom lip, and he reflexively opened his mouth and let Stiles inside.

His nerves were headed toward overload. Not only was Derek still touching him, but now Stiles was trying his damnedest to tie both their tongues into knots. Stiles’s hands wandered to his chest, and he felt a fingernail delicately scrape his nipple though his shirt. Scott hissed and tried to reach for Stiles but the ropes abruptly stopped the movement.

"Damn," he panted in frustration as Stiles pulled back but stayed on his lap. He tried to blindly follow Stiles’s lips, but Derek held him in place.

"What did I have?" Stiles asked. Scott tried to concentrate, but all he could pick up on were their three thudding heartbeats and the _very_ distracting scent of arousal in the air. He could tell it was mostly his. Still, Stiles smelled amazing, and Derek smelled just as good, and all he wanted to do was _touch_ them both and what kind of training session required him to pop a boner during a lesson?

"I didn’t quite catch it the first time," Scott said. "Can you kiss me again?"

"No, but nice try." Scott heard the grin in Stiles’s voice. "Come on, you can do this." And then he started grinding on Scott’s lap, like that was the obvious and helpful thing to do in this situation. His hips rose to meet Stiles’s, and he let his head fall back against Derek’s shoulder. The fully-clothed friction was wonderful.

Wonderfully distracting. Despite the fact that his dick was now straining to break free of his jeans, Scott somehow scraped together enough brain cells to figure out what Stiles had eaten.

"Sour apple Jolly Ranchers," he breathed. This must have been the correct answer, because Derek attacked his neck again. Scott whimpered at the dual sensations of Stiles on his crotch and Derek sucking a mark on his throat. He wanted so badly to touch them, see what they were doing to him, but he couldn’t. His hands clutched uselessly at the chair’s armrests.

"Final test," Derek said lazily. "I want you to describe to me in perfect detail what Stiles looks like jerking you off."

Scott involuntarily bucked hard against Stiles, eliciting a sharp cry from both of them. This was no longer a training session. It was rapidly becoming torture, and he almost regretted agreeing to participate. Almost.

Stiles popped the button on Scott’s jeans, freeing his aching dick. His sigh of relief turned to a moan when Stiles wrapped a spit-slicked palm around his shaft. He kept rutting against Scott and never slowed his pace.

"How long have you two been planning this?" Scott asked. He probably should have asked this earlier, way before they got to the point of hand jobs and dry humping, at least.

"Awhile." He ran his thumb over Scott’s slit, collecting precome and using it as extra lube. The action sent tendrils of electricity rocketing through his body, and Scott knew the sound he made was a pathetically desperate one. "Derek wanted to test you, but between us, I think he just wanted to watch." Stiles sounded wrecked, which was totally unfair since he wasn’t the one currently blindfolded and tied to a chair, Scott thought.

"Speaking of which," Derek chimed in, "You still haven’t told me what Stiles looks like right now."

Scott gulped. It took every ounce of willpower he had to string together a series of words that formed intelligible sentences. “He usually gets really flushed when he’s close, and I can…I can smell that he’s close.” No one said anything aside from his and Stiles’s harsh panting, and Derek kept petting him encouragingly, so he continued. “He feels kinda heavy. Solid. Warm. His heart sounds like thunder. His eyes are dark from the arousal. Mouth open, wet. Jesus.” Stiles twitched once, twice, and his grip on Scott’s cock faltered for a millisecond. But the moment passed just as soon as it occurred, and Stiles pumped him at a furious pace.

Scott felt Derek’s hand twitch in his hair. “You smell that, Scott?” Derek asked by his ear, his voice a little hoarse.

Honestly, Scott couldn’t smell much more than a thick fog of sex at the moment, but he concentrated until he found the scent Derek had picked up so easily. “Stiles. Came. He c-“

He felt it start in his toes and work its way upward. Scott’s balls drew tight, muscles contracted, and then he was coming in quick pulses, too. He knew he was making a mess of Stiles’s hands. None of them seemed to mind. Then, Stiles’s mouth was back on his, kissing him softly, easing him down. Derek patted his cheek, and Scott made a mental note to ask Derek later about where he’d learned to do _that much_ to someone’s neck with just his tongue.

"Good job, Scott," Derek said tightly. He stood and untied the blindfold, and Scott blinked against the sudden onslaught of light. He had a drowsy Stiles still trying to make out with him while simultaneously untying the ropes around his wrists, and if they both weren’t currently a pair of sticky grossness, Scott would have been content to stay right where he was.

"What about you?" Stiles asked as he briefly directed his gaze over Scott’s shoulder. He reached up and let his fingers brush over the bulge in Derek’s jeans. At least, that’s what Scott thought he did. The hitch in Derek’s heartbeat certainly suggested it.

"I’m fine," Derek lied.

Scott wrapped his arms around Stiles and whispered in his ear, knowing full well that Derek could still hear him. “I kinda want to take him apart. You know, as payback.”

"At the very least, he owes us both a change of clothes. But yeah, I agree with you."

Derek scoffed. “You can’t agree with him, Stiles. This was your plan, too.”

"You came up with the idea."

"Yeah, and you added to it with the ropes."

"Minor details. And how long is it going to take him to heal this monster hickey you left on him? It’s like the size of a dinner plate."

Scott let them squabble for a bit before hauling both Derek and Stiles off to Derek’s bed. This wasn’t the first time they’d all three shared it, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. But with the prospect of future “training sessions” hanging over them, Scott found himself looking forward to what Derek and Stiles cooked up for him next time.


End file.
